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NaBloPoMo’09: Musty Book

So, as the start of the next phase in relocating my office to the basement, the plan is to remodel both the office side and the living side of the basement.  Part of this means that there needs to be paneling put up over the cinder-block-and-plaster walls.  This also means that the bookshelves in the living section need to be emptied, and pulled away from the walls.  So, my phase is that I started moving the books.

I cannot believe how many of the books survived the move from our house in the Heights to out here. But apparently, my father was insistent that all of the books get packed up.

I am so glad that he got a barn that he can tinker in: it keeps him out of Goodwill and from buying nickel- and dime-priced paperback books from the ’60s and bringing them home.  There have to be hundreds upon hundreds of paperback novels alone.  Do not let me forget to mention the hardbound books, either: we have a copy of The Hunter’s Encyclopedia from 1968.

My father does not hunt.  He has never hunted.  We have no need for this book. Or tattered copies of diet books and encyclopedias from the 60s-80s; or travel guides for the Soviet Union (oh yes, I did not mis-type).

What frustrates me about it is that it’s just so much stuff that we have to dispose of.  And I’m not really excited about giving it back to Goodwill; I don’t want to try and sell useless copies of Agatha Christie novels on the internet; and even though they are useless, it seems pretty abhorrent to use them as fuel for the firepit.

It was certainly a testimony to getting a Kindle, or thinking twice about buying another object that gets used and just sits.  This is a huge reason why I love the library: first of all, free; second, I can figure out if I really want a book before I buy it.

It also speaks volumes about how amazing the interenet is for free information.  I certainly believe that guide manuals and books are extremely important to have in a hard copy if necessary.  But I also believe that if you’re just a lay person trying to get a snippet of information, the internet is going to be your new best friend.  Hell, even Wikipedia is a good jumping-off point.

(Aside: does it make me sad about the internet over books? Yes and no.  Books are irreplaceable, but my father’s avid “collecting” of books is testimony to how useful the digital age is for information.)

I’m not looking forward to the next steps of this project, which includes picking out which books need to get pitched, trying to find a book-recycling program, and re-assembling the bookshelves.

NaBloPoMo’09: Non-Books-Quitor

Today’s Friday Five is brought to you by the color, Q.

  1. What color is your parachute?
    Generally speaking, I would have to say olive green.
  2. Who moved your cheese?
    I have no idea, and frankly, I’m annoyed: it was New York sharp cheddar, yum.
  3. Where’s Waldo?
    Last time I checked, he was behind the sofa, with Jesus, where I found him.
  4. Are you my mother?
    That is patently impossible, as you are four years older than I.
  5. What’s happening to your body?
    Headache from nicotine withdrawal.

Source

NaBloPoMo’09: No Good, Very Bad Day

So, after the feeling of general cruddiness wears off from being sick, and the full effect of “holy shit, I’m really doing it: after 9 years of regular cigarette-smoking, I have been nicotine free for 11 days” kicks in, life is pretty shit-sandwichy.

I’m cranky about everything.  The cat is crying, but doesn’t want to be petted or picked up? Kick it in the kidney!  You broke a nail? Pull the rest of your fakies off – screw them if they don’t want to stay on!  Your chin is breaking out? Dig the offending blemish out: that will show that damn skin not to break out again!

Of course, I’m sure the other things I’m angry about and not mentioning here are valid things to be angry about, but they are liberally peppered with neurons that are full-blown-tantruming for a nicotine fix.

NaBloPoMo’09: Bake Sale Results

The bake sale went tremendously well. After lunch, I could find nary a whoopie pie from the 24 I brought in.

NaBloPoMo’09: Getting My Jones On

Baked and baked and iced and iced for the bake sale to raise money for the Cleveland Food Bank, dying for a cigarette the whole time.

I gave into eating icing straight from the pastry bag (mmmmmaplesyrup), but not to the cigarette.  Go me!

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